July 28 – TANTRIC SEX!

No, I’m not kidding. That was today’s theme. Chris and I had been planning on biking down to Bhaktapur, a town 13km from Kathmandu valley for the past week. Alas, it rained today, so no bike. Nevertheless, we took a cab and did just fine. The appeal of Bhaktapur is that the city looks virtually the way it did pre-modernization. The town, already considered holy, was restored in the 1970s by a German development organization—on the condition that it remain largely untouched. As such, automated transportation (buses, cars, motorbikes) are not allowed within town limits, except for teachers, certain key businesses, and law-enforcement.

As the guidebook explained, the majority of the temples were constructed between the 14^th and 17^th centuries by the Newari people. The Newari are known for their eccentric sense of humor, and it definitely shows in their carvings. At first glance, all you see is gorgeously-intricate woodwork. A closer look, however, reveals a peculiarly literal interpretation of kama sutra. Their Pashupatinath temple, dedicated to Shiva, bears “the most obscene depictions of tantric sex found in Kathmandu valley.” Sure enough, the building’s struts had all sorts of… peculiar erotic artwork. Men and women are in all sorts of different positions (I won’t go into detail, check out my photos when I upload them), but the highlight was described in the guidebook as the beam where you “shouldn’t even ask what the midget with the bowl is doing.”

That being said, the next attraction, a Buddhist temple, had a sobering reminder of the result of such sexual excesses: depictions of Hell. The woodcarvings on this side of Shiva’s town had some pretty-painful looking images of divine wrath, including constriction by snake and tooth-pulling with a wrench.

Bhaktapur was still gorgeous, and we had the chance to see woodworkers making the city’s famous carvings (many of which had some more urbane images of kama sutra), as well as Nepal’s tallest shrine. We were also joined by an art student named Lama, who gave me a crash-course in Buddhism and showed me some incredible Tibetian paintings (some made entirely from 24-carat gold paint). The lack of vehicles and modern technology in the village make it feel as if time has stopped, and despite the massive amounts of rain we got, we enjoyed the trip immensely.

As all good things have to end, though, we needed to make an appointment. On our way out, however, we had one last chance to observe Newari creativity. One of the temples at the exit of Bhaktapur has all kinds of animals engaging in procreative acts on it. The most memorable of all, however, was “two elephants in the missionary position, their trunks entwined in ecstasy.”

“That's some kinky shi*,” said Chris.

I couldn’t agree more.

Power is the Problem, So We Go for Bananas

Chris and I woke up early today to get some business out of the way. After meeting with Mr. Dhungana to go over tax issues, we booked tickets for my flight with Dr. Kattel to Danghadi (the first stop on the way to Sanfe). The rest of the morning was spent doing research on a tricky issue with the clinic— power. Electricity is not consistent at all in Achham (Chris and Bibhav spent over a week sans energy during a blackout) so it’s absolutely critical we get a generator there. Alas, the 2.5kW diesel generator that we have in mind is nearly impossible to find. We took a list of procurement businesses off the web and went down them, calling everyone. I also took a hike through downtown Patan, stopping at every machine shop on the way back to the guest house. Ten phone calls and eight store visits later, we could sense a pattern: nobody carries diesel generators. Most stores seem to have petrol (gasoline) generators, though, so things are leaning closer to that end. There was a glimmer of hope for a moment, when Rajan called us to let us know that he had found a place—but they only sell larger industrial-grade generators.

In lieu of our disappointing morning, we met up with Bikram to go on the long-delayed sightseeing trip. First stop: Durbar. This square, bounded by the former palace of the royal family, was bursting with temples, buildings, and monuments. Particularly memorable was visiting the Kumari, a nine-year-old girl considered a living goddess (the only living Hindu deity). We weren’t allowed to take photos, but she did peek down from her window. “She doesn’t look very happy,” noted Chris.

“She does this every day for hours,” noted Bikram. “Who could be happy about that?”

Also worrying to the Kumari is the fact that her position is temporary: Upon the onset of menstruation, the reigning goddess is unceremoniously and literally thrown out on the streets. A new girl takes her place and the cycle begins again.

On the way out of Durbar Square, a little man solicited me to buy something from him. The plaza is bursting with peddlers, so I was prepared, but he presented an item I really wanted: a Gurkha knife (khukuri). The huge blades are traditionally made by the residents of the region by the same name and are symbols of Nepal. They also represent the Gurkha army. During the British wars of colonization, their defense of the Terai led to the two year Anglo-Nepali war. Despite the eventual defeat of the Nepalese, the English were so impressed by the Gurkha fighting force that they were regularly called upon in WWI and WWII to serve the queen. Their regiment ended up being awarded 13 Victoria Crosses, the highest British Military honor. In addition, Britain has designated one of its most feared dragoon units the Gurkha Battalion, despite the fact that there are no Gurkhas in it (and of which Prince Harry is a commanding officer). To this day, many Rai and Limbu men still have khukuris (which they always carried with them into war) tucked into their belts.

Anyways, back to this knife, it wasn’t as elaborate or decorated as most I see in gift shops, but when I pulled the sheath back, it had the stamp of the Ghorka Army, complete with a serial number. Needless to say, I made the peddler quite happy. If nothing else, it'll also make an impressive mango slicer for me in Achham ;)

Unfortunately, buying one item in Durbar makes you a salesman magnet. One man harassed me in an attempt to sell me a lock for almost 15 minutes as I repeatedly denied his attempt (not to mention he was asking 400 Rupees [$6+] for an inch-long trinket!). I had learned my lesson. From then on, I kept my mouth shut, letting the peddlers descend on Chris instead.

We stopped briefly for lunch, where I had a buffalo sandwich (buffalo are not considered sacred like cows here), and noted that it tasted just like beef, just a little tougher.

Our next visit was Pashupati, the holiest Hindu site in Nepal. Unfortunately, this meant it was so holy it prevented leather shoes, wallets, and belts (and their hapless non-Hindu owners) from entering. Nevertheless, Bikram wanted to show us the small village that had sprung up around it, and proceeded to buy a bunch of bananas. We quickly found out the reason, as he gave each of us one, bit one himself, then threw the rest into the street. A crowd of monkeys descended onto the pile, squeaking and scrambling for the fruity morsels. I hate to put it this way, but they were definitely among the most charming of the area’s attractions. The rest of the temple was blocked from our entrance, though we were allowed to photograph whatever we could see from outside. We hiked around the gate, though, and caught a glimpse of a gigantic golden bull in the midst of dozens of statues.

There was a funny smell in the air, so I asked Bikram what kind of incense they burned here.

“People.” He replied.

Apparently, the river that runs through the temple is considered holy like the Ganges, and many Nepalis are cremated here.

“Oh.”

Shifting gears in religion, we then took a local bus to the opposite end of Kathmandu to visit Swoyambu, Nepal’s most holy Buddhist site. The Buddhists were more accommodating, and after a rainy 15-minute hike, we made it to the monastery and stupa at the top of the hill. The temple, exploding with tiny statues, was incredible, and offered a stunning view of the entire capital city. We spent a bit of time meditating with the monks and listening to recordings of Nepali chants. To Chris’ amusement, Swoyambu was also overrun by monkeys. No bananas for them, though.

Note: In my haste to get this blog up, I forgot to enable commenting by non-google people. I've since unlocked it so anyone can comment, so feel free. I'll answer. (And thanks to Jordan and Ryan. Much love).

July 21, 2007 – More Tourism and Bloodsuckers, Part II

One of the things I was most excited about seeing in Pokhara was the Himalayas (which you can see if it’s clear enough). Unfortunately, it drizzled yesterday, obscuring our view. Today, it rained buckets, so no dice again. We spent the morning watching Blood Diamond. It cleared up by 2PM though, so we rented a boat and paddled around Phewa Tal, a gorgeous lake north of the city. If you haven’t gone rowing, you should seriously consider it— it’s one of the most relaxing things you could possibly do. We then landed on the opposite shore and hiked up for 30 minutes to the World Peace Stupa, a huge pagoda with Buddhas from five nations (China, Thailand, Japan, India, and Nepal). Unfortunately, it was undergoing construction, but the sweaty uphill hike was still great exercise. The view of the city from up there was gorgeous as well.

A special highlight of the hike was the fact that we were occasionally solicited by leeches. Yep, leeches. At first, Chris got bitten. He thought it was awesome and took photos. Five bites later, he didn’t think the same. I luckily only got bitten once, and I pulled the sucker (heh, pun not intended) off pretty quickly after he latched on, but fought off three other buggers before they had the chance to sink their jaws in. By the time we got back down, Chris was bleeding a lot from his feet since leeches have an infamous blood anti-coagulant (which researchers are trying to use for stroke and heart attack medication). Nevertheless, paddling on the river was unbelievably nice, and though I crashed our boat into the shore at least three times, we got back to the operator’s shack in one piece.

We took a leisurely walk along the lakeside, and boy, is Pokhara touristy! There were dozens of hotels with signs in over ten different languages (the Korean hotel/restaurant claimed to serve dolsut bibimbap, which I haven’t had in over a year) and the number of gift shops is just staggering. This doesn’t change how peaceful the city is, and I’ll be sad to leave.

July 20, 2007 – We Become Tourists

Chris and I forced ourselves to wake up at 5:30 this morning to catch a bus. As a background, one of our team members (and incoming Yale med student) Bibhav Acharya invited us to come visit him in his hometown.

Pokhara, which is one of the Top 5 tourist trekking destinations in the world, is certainly deserving of its title. Whereas Kathmandu is loud, polluted, crowded, and smelly; Pokhara is peaceful, clean, and pleasant. Though it’s not as urban the capital, it’s actually nicer since we get all the benefits of electricity, running water, and internet without the annoying city byproducts.

One of the most notable parts about trip thus far, however, has been the ride there. Chris and I took the tourist bus for seven hours through many small mountain hamlets. The landscape is absolutely stunning, with huge cliffs, gaping gorges, and rushing rivers. Residents primarily grow rice in jagged paddies on the mountainside for subsistence, but supplement their income by catering to the bus passengers that stream by between Kathmandu and Pokhara. One of things that encouraged me the most about them, though, was seeing that children were still managing to go to school. Everywhere we stopped, there were uniformed kids of various ages marching (often long distances) down the mountain to go to school in the valleys below.

Once we reached Pokhara, Bibhav took us to Gupteshwor Mahadev, an awesome limestone cave with a long-hidden shrine. The lingam, which people are not allowed to take photos of, is actually a stalagmite that bears a likeness to Shiva’s “terrifying” or “great” form. There I paid tribute to the manifestation, and dabbed some red paint on my forehead (tika). That actually allowed me to get the local rate at the next attraction, Devi’s Falls (a huge waterfall that apparently swept a Swiss couple away in 1961), since I totally pass for a local (Bibhav’s dad noted that I looked just like the guy who used to do IT for his hospital). In fact, when we were on the bus to the central town square, a woman asked me to move aside since she wasn’t uncomfortable about sitting next to the “American” (Chris). I awkwardly had to explain in bad Nepali that I was from Korea. Chris did his best in the opposite direction as me and bought a brilliant hat which, coupled with his camera bag, made him the ultimate tourist.

Before returning to the Acharya residence, we spent some time wandering around the heart of the city, which was just urban enough to be pleasant. When I ducked into a music/movie store, I was surprised to find tons of Korean movies, an entire section by themselves! I had a great time translating some of the more hilarious titles for Bibhav. Again, small world…